Queen; Shawn Mendes

eight

Chapter 8:
Drunk

Shawn

One, two, three, four, five. Five drinks. That's how many Ophelia had, I was going to leave after a drink or two of mine. But the more she drank the more giggly and talkative she got. About nothing and everything. I found Ophelia extremely annoying. With her snarky attitude and smirk when she won over Stan Mitchel.

But drunk Ophelia, now she was entertaining. She wasn't being witty or rude, her nose wasn't in my business. I found her a lot less annoying than usual. But I wasn't a babysitter, and I still hated the fact that she stole one of my clients from under me.

"But I feel like more like Chandler." She said sitting up fast like she just remembered the best thing.

"Ophelia can you drink the water?" Max asked her as he began to clean up the bar counter.

It was ten at night, we had officially been here for four hours. The place was closed and only Ophelia, Max, and I were here. Max was my roommate, which explained why I always spent my time after work here. Well that and because I hated being alone in the house. Unless I was taking some girl home then that's different.

Ophelia's friend, Cate I believe her name was, left with her boyfriend an hour ago. Her boyfriend offered to take both of them home but Ophelia said she was fine and didn't want to go. She was stubborn when she was drunk.

Ophelia nodded to Max before grabbing the glass of water. She then started to drink it, or chug it, making more of a mess on the counter. Max chuckled as he had to wipe down the counter again. I don't know how he has so much patience, drunk Ophelia was fun for two hours. Then she went back to annoying.

"But t-then I feel like all of them." She said making no sense whatsoever. I didn't even know what she was saying.

I leaned against my hand looking from her to Max. I was like a kid that was forced to be with his parents in a place he didn't want to be. I was bored and tired and wanted nothing more than to go home. Though Max is the closer, he's the one to lock up every night. Normally it's just us two, and i watch tv till he's done.

But now I'm stuck here watching a drunk Ophelia rant about Friends. I could tell it was her favorite tv show without her actually saying it. She's been talking about it for the last thirty minutes.

"I wished I had a cute friends group." She sighed as she went to lean back in her stool but began to tilt to the left.

She let out a yelp as she lost her balance. Max attempted to somehow catch her from behind the bar but that was an utter fail. I watched as she fell, she landed on the floor with a loud thud. Ophelia didn't get up and luckily all the barstools were up so she didn't hit her head.

Though she was laying down on the floor and staring up at the ceiling. Her hair was sprawled out around her head. She rested her hands on her stomach as she slowly breathed in and out.

"You know what would be really cool? If the ceiling was made of glass and you could see the stars as you laid on the floor." Ophelia thought out loud.

I shook my head and looked over at Max, "You're such a dick." He muttered as he threw the rag in the sink.

"What?" I asked not knowing why he called me a dick.